


precipitous

by tonyang (kurusui)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurusui/pseuds/tonyang
Summary: Getting close to Choi Seungcheol: an exercise in emotional vulnerability.





	precipitous

“Before you leave,” Seungcheol says, “I wanted to tell you something.” Wonwoo twists the dials on his combination lock randomly and looks up.

“What is it?” There has to be a reason that Seungcheol would return to their empty room at 1 in the morning, hovering over Wonwoo’s remaining belongings, leaning against the unwrapped mattress.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” Seungcheol echoes. “But I can see- you’re about to go.” Wonwoo stands up, singular suitcase in hand, backpack on his shoulders. All of this is body language to indicate Seungcheol will only hold him back. And maybe that’s intentional.

“What is it,” Wonwoo says again, but with much less patience and more demand.

“Did you really have to go away the week of Mingyu’s birthday?”

Of course it was this. Wonwoo pulls up the handle of his suitcase so that it snaps in place with a sharp click. “That’s not related, or even relevant.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it _that_ way,” he replies, starting to get irritable, like he does when things don’t go how he wants. “Not that way. But I was going to ask you to help me plan a surprise for when our team records. And now I’ll just do it alone, that’s all.” Jihoon is probably in the studio now, fitting Wonwoo’s parts into place because he’s compelled to work - and grumbling because he can’t finish the song at once. It’s a petty complaint. So is Seungcheol’s.

“You know,” Wonwoo says, “the thing about being the oldest is you never get surprised.”

He doesn’t intend to make this conversation any easier for Seungcheol. And yet he can never win. “You’re not the oldest.”

Wonwoo looks at the floor. It’s dusty and covered in torn pieces of packing tape, bits of plastic and residue from the cardboard boxes they slid across it in the preceding days.

The movers wore their shoes into the apartment, of course. Wonwoo thinks of the feeling of cold wood against his feet and shivers.

“Sorry,” he says abruptly. Wonwoo drags his luggage across the floor, leaving invisible streaks on the ground, pushing past the man in front of him.

By the way Seungcheol’s hands hover in the air when he looks back, Wonwoo can tell he has to stop himself from slamming the door shut.

 

 

 

(Without fighting, they clash anyway. This is what Wonwoo told Hansol over fries and a lemonade slushie before they moved dorms last time.

“But you guys get along so well,” Hansol says, furrowing his eyebrows. His eyes also dart around the area, as if Seungcheol was watching them from behind the bushes. Seungcheol would never do _that,_ it’s far too blatant. He would, however, grill Hansol for details if he knew he was being discussed - so really that’s Wonwoo’s problem for later.

“Well, that’s not really the point,” Wonwoo responds. “We do, but we don’t. Not always. We’re both too competitive.”

“No one always gets along though. Right?” He slurps at the rest of his drink, wincing when he reaches the bottom. “It’s all melted, the sun is so...”

“Want another?” Wonwoo’s wallet is a heavy weight in his pocket.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Hansol says. The empty plastic cup slides across the stone table with the breeze before Wonwoo calmly stands up and throws it in the neighboring trash bin.

“I’m just afraid, kind of.” The fries are out too, but Wonwoo doesn’t want to get up again.

“I get that,” Hansol says. “Seungcheol hyung is scary sometimes.”

The sun shifts overhead. There’s an umbrella nailed into the center of their table, red and white stripes, casting a shadow that covers Hansol and leaves Wonwoo’s right shoulder painfully exposed.

“You know, when you spend too much time with someone, sometimes their bad sides get, like, amplified,” Wonwoo says, clenching and reopening his fist. Hansol nods. “And I know it goes for the reverse, too, but... I don’t want to hate anyone.”

Hansol takes a deep breath and slams his hands on the table, like he’s going to stand. “Wonwoo hyung, maybe you’re afraid of what you might lose. But I think you’ll gain even more. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah?” He looks up, because Hansol is out of his seat now.

“Come on, let’s go sit inside.”)

 

 

 

Unwillingly, he sees Seungcheol trail close to him and now they’re in the back of the manager’s van together. Wonwoo pulls the shades apart so he can stare out the window at the night lights, beyond the highway; he’s acutely aware of Seungcheol’s gaze on his back.

“You’re allowed to be selfish,” Seungcheol says, without prompting. But it doesn’t come off as permission given. Wonwoo knows. Wonwoo did not plan this trip on the condition of everyone’s understanding.

“Thanks.”

Seungcheol then says, “because you’re not the oldest.”

He won’t let retroactive guilt take effect. “I knew there was a catch.”

“Where are you going,” Seungcheol asks, “when you get there.”

“I don’t know yet.” Red, blue, white circles of light blur through the curtain of water dripping down his window. There isn’t really anything to see out there.

“Hah, typical hip hop team, does whatever he wants.”

“That’s just self-disparaging,” Wonwoo says disdainfully. Any excuse to discredit reality.

“No, it’s self-recognizing.”

He sighs. “Acknowledged.”

Outside the rain falls like steady bullets, muffling the lower sound of thunder. Wonwoo knows Seungcheol hates the rain. Maybe he’ll stay in the car, say goodbye from that distance at the drop-off, won’t even get out of the car for him, Wonwoo will wait for their manager to park the van in the garage and come see him off, and Seungcheol will wait in the cold and dark, as long as it’s dry.

“Will you miss me?” Seungcheol asks.

Wonwoo thinks it is awfully self-centered of him to ask that question. Needy and desperate for attention and love.

 

 

( _Seungkwan says,_  you have to confess at least one emotional aspect to him - how is he to you, for example. You can’t just state facts. He’s more than a game partner. Or your group leader.

Wonwoo laughs uneasily. But I did. I didn’t. (Don’t make me say more.)

Seokmin smiles. That’s fine we’ll just move on then.)

 

 

The answer is: he will. But-

“It depends,” he says quietly, so their manager can’t hear. Drawing out the words, so he can plan his next move.

“On?”

“Will you miss me?”

“Of course.”

That’s the difference between them. Seungcheol speaks before he thinks. Wonwoo feels tension in his jaw and has nothing to say in response. Shockingly, Seungcheol doesn’t retort with some kind of victory statement.

“Remember the night you couldn’t sleep?”

“There are a lot of nights like that,” Wonwoo answers. Maybe he knows which one Seungcheol is talking about. Maybe as much as he tries to forget about some things, they’ve already rooted in him.

“We talked,” Seungcheol says, annoyingly vaguely. “In the room.”

 

 

( _You don’t have to stay here alone,_ Mingyu says, holding the front door open. You should come with us. This is stupid.

I don’t want to sleep in an unfamiliar new place for a night and leave for a trip without being able to adjust. It’s weird. I might as well do it all at once when I get back and without being in your way.

‘Your’ means our, right? ... You know no one will care even if you wake us all up in the middle of the night to say goodbye.

I wouldn’t do that on purpose. I don’t want to do it by accident, either.

I’ll wait for you to arrive back! Mingyu says, earnestly, readable to a fault - he never learns, Wonwoo thinks. Or I guess to arrive for the first time! I’ll only set up my half of the room-

I won’t be gone long, Wonwoo says carefully. But thank you.

I’ll be waiting!

Thanks.)

 

 

“About?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t think you would want me to bring it up again. But you were honest with me. I liked that.”

“I regret it now,” he says as a quick defense.

Seungcheol laughs. “Doesn’t matter, it already happened.”

“Why are you mentioning this now?”

When Wonwoo turns to look at him, Seungcheol’s eyes are closed and his head leans against the window, slivers of light wandering across his face in intervals. It occurs to Wonwoo that it’s almost 3 and will be even later when Seungcheol arrives home. Maybe someone will have to carry him to bed. He’s so selfish.

“I think you should go see the ocean,” Seungcheol says. “They say it’s beautiful there. At least once.”

(He says he won’t bring it up and brings it up anyway. These are grounds for a lawsuit.) Maybe if Seungcheol had asked this of him last week the answer would have been a hard no. “Should I?”

“You don’t have to. But you might enjoy it, now.” (And there lies the distinction between life policing and advice.)

“I’ll miss you,” Wonwoo says, turning back to look outside, as the car exits the highway to the international terminal.

“Of course you will. I know you too well to need to ask.”

“You think you know me that well.” The van slows jarringly, maybe an involuntary reaction to the tensity. Wonwoo holds his breath over the speed bump.

“I mean I do. But I still don’t.”

The sound of someone putting their shoes on goes unnoticed. “Why did you come back?” Wonwoo asks. “To the dorm.”

“I never left.”

“Like, you were always-?”

“In the living room,” he says as a matter of fact and not a point of pride. Wonwoo is the one that asked, after all. “I’m glad we roomed together,” Seungcheol continues. “Thank you.”

It happens too fast. Wonwoo thinks of nothing at all when he is pulled in for a hug across the aisle, seatbelts still fastened. Jinsu’s door opens and Wonwoo stumbles out of his, and then a third door opens as his closes. The overhang far above them can’t shield the cars from the pouring rain, so when Wonwoo shakes the water from his hair Jinsu has pulled his suitcase farther into the waiting area. Seungcheol stands on the other side of the van, the front bumper between them.

“Do you need help checking in?” he asks, standing still in the rain. It sounds awfully rhetorical. Wonwoo knows how to fly on his own. Jinsu knows how to do everything regardless.

“No,” Wonwoo answers, staring back.

“Then have a good trip,” Seungcheol says. “Ah, I’m so tired, I’ll drive the van around to wake up and save on parking. It’ll be our secret. Hyung, go and help Wonwoo.” Jinsu protests but Seungcheol swears on various possessions he’s not going to crash and make them file paperwork in the morning. “Goodbye Wonwoo,” he says again before getting into the driver’s seat and looking over the buttons. “Where’s the brake pedal...? Just kidding, seriously.”

The van speeds away. Wonwoo’s socks fill with water and he suddenly feels very cold.

“Why did he get out of the car and do that?” Jinsu asks, looking at the empty road. “I just-”

“He’s a fool,” Wonwoo says.

 

 

 

(Seungcheol and Wonwoo at the register of the convenience store, 1 in the morning:

“Where’s the spicy ramyun?”

“Calm down, I checked the kitchen earlier. Junnie filled the pantry up to the literal top edge, there’s plenty.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Anyway, not to harp on this but you really did so poorly last game.”

“Shut up! I already told you my mouse is coming loose. I was at an unfair disadvantage. Oh, there’s one more bottle in the basket.”

“Put it on the counter, then, hurry up.”

“Don’t speak to your elders that way!”

“Yelling ‘shoot me’ in a crowded area is the worst possible choice you could have made. That’s not your mouse’s fault.”

“I was trying to save you.”

“...”

“I was trying my best, okay!? It’s like, team play. That’s what I thought.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Waited to hear that. Waited waaay too long.”

“Fine, I owe a lot to you, okay? Thanks for keeping me alive. And killing yourself in the process, causing me to die. Because there was no one left to help me.”

“... I trusted you to bring me back.”

“You overestimate me.”

“That’s my job! Like, as a leader. To push you to do your best.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

[“Have a nice night!”]

“You too.”

“Hey.”

“What?”

“...Never mind.”

“Yeah?”

“You know, Wonwoo, you’re always so curious about everything. But you never want to tell anyone else all of this. The truth about yourself.”

“That’s just how I am.”

“I know. But see, the thing is - I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Can I be someone you tell these things to?”)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks very much to ash for the support and ideas for this pairing!!! ;___;


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